The Days are Numbered
by Uncle Charlie
Summary: Giles finds something in the library that he didn't leave there the night before and it could only come from one man, The Doctor. Written for the One from Column A challenge


The voices carried over the usual din in the school's corridor.

"You can't trust anyone over thirty."

"Who wants to be over thirty? I'd kill myself first. I mean, by then the best years of your life are behind you. I live in fear of that first wrinkle. I already have a plastic surgeon on speed dial."

"Oh, who do you have? Someone local?"

Rupert Giles was walking through the school hallway to the library and, who, for the record, was well over thirty, wanted to stop and throttle the little darlings. One was busy primping in front of her locker, a mirror hung on the back of its door. The other was fluffing her mane of hair, an explosion of expensive color, with one hand, while holding her compact in the other.

It would be so easy, a pinch of this, a dash of that and these two would wake up eighty years old tomorrow morning. It had been a long time since he'd used magic like that. However, as Spike, the idiot, liked to point out, there are always consequences with when you used magic.

Giles pushed his way into the library and dropped his armful of books onto a nearby table. At this time of the day, it was empty. His Slayer and her entourage were probably still asleep or dragging their way through their morning rituals. But the library wasn't exactly empty, the place hummed with a sort of invisible energy, unusual at this time of the morning.

He paused at his desk and started water heating in his electric kettle, letting his subconscious reach out to the source and when he realized it, it brought a smile to his lips. It made sense, but for now, it was still unspoken and it wasn't his duty to make the first move.

Giles was just dropping the ball of loose tea into his _Kiss the Librarian_ mug to steep when he saw the calendar on the worktable. It was resting on a pile of old newspapers among the books that still needed to be shelved. He'd been studying them last night as he waited for Buffy to return from her rounds. Something was waking up the Hellmouth and he didn't know what. He was determined to find out before telling Buffy, though.

He was certain the calendar wasn't there when he left last night. It seemed innocent enough, but there was something about it that set Giles's teeth on edge. The kittens adorning the cover were cute, too cute, but there was something menacing about their eyes and their overly large fangs. That's when it hit him. The word, calendar, was spelled wrong and the year read 2091. It was enough to keep him from immediately opening the cover.

"You see it too, then?"

The voice should have startled him, but it didn't. Instead, Giles smiled and took off his wire rim glasses to polish them. "Hello, Doctor. It's been a long time."

From between the stacks, a man stepped out, his tall lank frame hidden in a suit and loose trench coat. Giles put his glasses back on and studied the stranger. The man was able to shed his skin the way a snake did, but unlike the snake, each new layer was very different.

"You've changed, Doctor. You had an afro the last time I saw you."

"I fear a couple of times since we last met in Soho. You were a scrappy young thug back then."

"Until you made me see the light and start to believe in something again. I never really got to thank you for that. How is Sarah Jane? She was such a charming girl."

"Now a charming woman with a son, a tin dog and a large computer called Mr. Brown. He paused to make a face. "Not quite sure about the history of the name, though."

"As long as she's happy, that's what counts."

"Yes, she is well. And you?" The Doctor looked around at his surroundings. "A librarian, is it? You seem a bit more traded up"

"Well, that's the cover story. I'm actually a Watcher now."

"Really? Then I have come to the right place. Got that calendar off a coven not too long ago. They didn't seem all that sorry to see it go. Got me to wondering."

"Have you opened it?"

"Naw, a bit of Pandora's Box vibe about it. I didn't want to chance it." The Doctor sank into a nearby chair. "Then I remembered you. You used to throw up a mean containment spell once upon a time."

Giles laughed and shook his head. "Once upon a time, but I will admit it's been years." He sobered as he swore the calendar moved, knocking paper to the floor.

"It does that a lot." The Doctor picked them up and returned them to the table. "Liked to try and have its way with my sonic screwdriver, too."

"I'm sure I could arrange something, but it will have to be later, away from here."

"What do you need?"

"Time and the proper books. The ones I keep here, even the ones in the restricted section, don't touch upon such spells. Tonight at my apartment would be safer." He scratched out his address on a slip of paper and passed it over. "I suspect my Slayer will be dragging in any moment now and where she follows, so do her friends."

The Doctor checked his watch and looked up at the one on the wall. He shook his wrist and then gave up on it. "Bit early for that, isn't it?"

"If she doesn't get a passing grade on her mid-term, she will not graduate. She will be here and she will be studying."

"I like it."

"What?"

"The fatherly role you have made for yourself. For what it's worth, you'd have made a great dad, if-"

Giles interrupted him. "Yes, if. A small word with large consequences." He gestured to the table as the noise grew louder. "Would you mind?" he snapped at it, then his mouth gaped open as he watched the paper the calendar rested upon become stained with moisture.

"Oh, sorry." The Doctor pushed the calendar aside and folded up the paper, dropping it in the wastebasket. The calendar rattled slightly and he set a book on top of it.

"Do you think that's wise?"

"It's a calendar. Nothing living in it."

"That's _Rosen's Dictionary of Demonology_. It might be wiser to use this one."

The Doctor pulled out his glasses and read the spine. "_Grimm's Fairy Tales_?" He handed it back.

Giles looked at the various stacks of books and then smiled. "Here, try this one."

"_Casper and the Fluffy Kitten_?" At Giles's glare, the Doctor held up a hand and tucked his glasses away. "All right, I won't judge."

"Now, how about a cup of tea?"

"And your slayer? How will you explain me?"

"Why would I need to explain you?" Giles asked, as he prepped a second cup of tea.

"Explain who how?" A young blonde girl, a sucker in her mouth, plopped a backpack down on the table.

Giles turned, not really surprised to find that his visitor had gone, along with the disturbing packageand _Casper and the Fluffy Kitten_.

"Nothing, Buffy. How are you this morning?" He offered her a cup of tea, only half listening to her tale of woe and failed studying. If nothing else, he knew that he was in for a great day himself, even if his slayer wasn't, because The Doctor a day keeps boredom at bay.


End file.
